


Big Plans and Badgers

by shinobi93



Category: My Beautiful Laundrette (1985)
Genre: M/M, One Shot, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-08
Updated: 2014-03-08
Packaged: 2018-01-15 01:58:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1286956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinobi93/pseuds/shinobi93
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Underwhelming revelations and awkward conversations, or, Omar and Johnny find out they're not as subtle as they think.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Big Plans and Badgers

**Author's Note:**

> For Aisling (thehoneyinthelion on Tumblr), who gets half the credit for the ideas in this, and also for suggesting/telling me to write fic for this film. Apologies for any inaccuracies, I used the screenplay for odd little things, but mostly went by my memory of the film as I don't have my copy with me. Also, as per our headcanons, imagine Tania's off being awesome.
> 
> No warnings apply, as far as I know.

The place isn’t much, a rundown box with three rooms and a bathroom Johnny’s already spent a day trying to stop leaking, but it is where they live together, and what’s more, Nasser doesn’t own the building. No unscrewing for preferential rent, just Omar insisting upon actual furniture because he’s ‘not living in a shithole’. Johnny is no longer doing all the manual work on the laundrettes (Salim had offered money with a casual ‘get someone else, he’s too good for that work’ as acknowledgement of what Johnny had done; Omar had turned down the money, and hired someone regardless) and Omar’s grin widens every time they make profit.

After a couple of weeks, they have a guest.

‘Papa!’

Johnny sticks his hands in his jacket pockets and looks at the walls they’ve not bothered painting. The laundrettes shine with fresh paint and flashing signs; they don’t need to come home to it. Omar shows his father around, not noticing that Hussein is watching his son more closely than paying attention to the flat. Johnny waits in the front room, boots on the sofa, eyeing the table they never eat at, covered with paperwork about washing machines. They soon return, the flat not warranting much of a tour.

‘You paid for all this with laundrette money?’

‘Yes, papa.’

‘I don’t approve.’

Omar shakes his head affectionately.

‘I will go to college, papa. Once the laundrettes are all sorted making money.’

He looks over at Johnny, who grins back. Cleaning clothes is what they know, now. How to make money: make it work, don’t make it depressing. Expand. Don’t have the money? Find a way to make it, strictly legal or not. Omar’s father doesn’t understand, but he sees their excitement, and hopes his son’s only ambition isn’t to clean all the clothes in the country. The phone rings. Johnny jumps, forgetting they’d actually sorted out the phone.

Omar answers it and immediately talks low and fast: business. Johnny moves his feet off the sofa in case Hussein wants to sit, but he doesn’t, simply moves slowly closer to Johnny and looks down seriously, swaying slightly on his feet.

‘You two are shagging, yes?’

Johnny’s eyes widen in panic. He’s never been great at thinking up words when put on the spot. He runs a hand through his hair and stares up at Omar’s father like he’s caught in a trap. Hussein keeps up the look for a moment, then moves away just as Omar hangs up the phone.

‘Papa, must you go?’ he asks as Hussein moves toward the door, but it’s clear from his look that he wants his father to leave, so he can go and deal with whatever he just discussed on the phone.

‘Yes, Omar. Your washing must be keeping you busy.’ He looks over at Johnny. ‘Keep reminding him he has to go to college, won’t you?’ 

Johnny nods, dazed. Once Hussein leaves, he turns to Omar, who’s reading over an invoice from the table.

‘He asked if we’re shagging.’

‘Hmm?’ replies Omar, clearly not listening.

‘Did you hear?’

Omar looks up.

‘Yeah, he knows.’ Johnny raises his eyebrows. ‘Papa’s far more interested in being disappointed that I’m making money rather than reading about socialism. Think he only brought it up so you’d try to force me back to college so you didn’t offend him.’

‘Oh.’

‘Just wait, we’ll tell the rest of my family tomorrow.’

-

Omar pulls up the handbrake, but makes no move to get out of the car. Instead, he smoothes the sleeves of his suit, the first one he bought himself rather than his uncle paying for it so that his nephew ‘doesn’t look like a bloody scruff’. Beside him, Johnny bristles, unhappy because he’s also been forced into a suit. Omar’s holding back a laugh at the sight of Johnny’s hair next to a smart jacket. Usually, he doesn’t dress up for visiting Omar’s extended family. Today, however, is different.

‘But they know who I am,’ says Johnny, as if continuing a silent conversation.

‘It’ll be fine,’ Omar says as if continuing a slightly different one.

They look at each other. Despite plenty of discussions about whether they need to do this, it has been decided that yes, they do. If they are going to live together, in a tiny flat with only one bedroom, then they have to tell Nasser and everybody what the situation is, before it’s a few months later and Salim’s trying to blackmail them using the threat of telling the whole family because Omar wouldn’t agree to use the laundrettes as a front for low level smuggling. Omar wouldn’t put it past Salim to try and do so anyway, perhaps to try and force information about Tania out of Omar and Johnny (it’s clear everyone suspects she’s called them up and shared her current plans; such suspicions would, in fact, be true, although it took Tania pretending to be a wrong number call to Hussein numerous times before it was Omar who answered the phone to her). Playing the family game is just part of life.

‘If you insist.’ 

Johnny has a smile on his face, and Omar knows from his look that Johnny will not back down now. He leans over and kisses the smiling Johnny, sealing the plan. Finally, they leave the car and ring the doorbell. Bilquis greets them and, when Omar says that he needs to speak to his uncle, directs them to Nasser, somehow already standing alone in a small room used for storage. They all wait in a silence for a moment, then Omar stumbles out a couple of sentences, Johnny silent beside him, and Nasser nods without comment. His expression is unreadable to either of them.

‘Go to the kitchen, get some food,’ Nasser orders, tapping Omar on the shoulder. ‘Your auntie thinks you’re too thin, like a stick boy.’ He looks at Johnny. ‘You too.’

Both scurry from the room, uncertain what just happened. There’s no time to question, however, as they are handed huge plates which are loaded up with food by Bilquis. It’s a job she would’ve given Tania before, but trusts none of Omar’s other cousins to do successfully. They eat in silence, standing awkwardly in the kitchen. Johnny tries carefully to test the heat of each new foodstuff before taking a huge mouthful; he’s had some bad experiences before, usually ending with Omar laughing at him for days afterwards. Omar’s aunt disappears. They keep eating, no words spoken until Johnny tries a tiny bite of something he’s never seen before, realises how spicy it is, and loads up the fork.

‘You want this?’

Omar smirks, but nods, and Johnny holds out the forkful to his mouth. As he moves the fork away again, Nasser walks in.

‘Come on, finish your food in company,’ he says, not remarking on the scene.

‘Alright, uncle,’ Omar replies, but adds none of the usual comments he makes to his uncle, his rambling references to Nasser’s predilections or nervous chatter about business. They follow Nasser through the hall and into a large front room, where a selection of Omar’s relatives and Nasser’s business associates sit around, eating and chatting. A few people go silent when they enter, but not many, and they start talking again almost instantly. Confused, they both lean against a wall and continue eating, whilst Nasser launches into a long story about an expensive car he convinced someone into selling for far less than its real value.

‘Do they know?’ Johnny whispers, having decided to give his mouth a break from the curry, as grateful as he is for all the food.

Omar shrugs. ‘Maybe.’

‘Who are they?’ he asks next, because they’re never normally in a situation to look over a room of Omar’s family without being forced into conversation about laundrettes or what Omar’s father is up to.

‘Relatives.’ Johnny raises his eyebrows questioningly. ‘I’m not sure. They mostly talk in Urdu, except to say how I don’t know Urdu and have never been to Karachi. And when someone’s visiting from Pakistan, well, the only thing they say in English is usually “this is” before they ignore me.’

Johnny sniggers. “Aww, Omo, how sad.’

‘Shut up!’

Omar goes to hit him, then remembers where they are. He wonders if nobody has said anything yet because Nasser is waiting until the right moment to reveal that Omar’s revelation has caused him to seize everything Omar’s worked for, because he wouldn’t’ve helped out if he’d known. Slightly panicked, Omar considers whispering something to Johnny, but notices that his boyfriend’s too busy trying to eat a bhaji successfully.

‘Omar!’

He jerks his head around, looking for the source of the voice. It comes from a woman sitting next to Bilquis, whose name and exact relation to him he is unsure of. He steps towards her, forcing on a smile, but she talks loudly enough for the whole room to hear anyway.

‘Why didn’t you tell us? We could’ve found you a lovely boy, someone we approve of. Actually, there might be a-’

Johnny growls at the exact moment Nasser waves a hand in her direction. She shakes her head.

‘Of course not.’

The doorbell rings and Nasser disappears, whilst Omar laughs awkwardly at Johnny’s face, currently resembling someone too shocked to be properly annoyed. One of Tania’s younger sisters takes their plates from them, prompted by her mother, and as she leaves, in walks Salim, talking to Nasser. Cherry follows them, looking interestedly at Omar and Johnny for all of two seconds before moving into further into the room. 

Salim, meanwhile, walks over to them, his usual shit-eating grin upon his face.

‘Enjoy your little announcement?’ They look back at him in confusion. ‘You were so obvious, it’s not like anyone with eyes didn’t know. Living together though, that’s a good idea. Saves money - you should invest that, expand your little washing empire.’ 

He nods in approval of his own plan.

‘You don’t have any opportunities for us, do you, Salim?’ Omar asks, with a hungry look in his eyes.

‘No, I don’t, I’m keeping opportunities for myself. Your uncle wanted to talk to you, though, didn’t you?’ he says as Nasser approaches. Nasser agrees and beckons Omar out of the room.

‘Don’t leave me with them all,’ hisses Johnny as Omar turns to leave, but Omar just smirks. When he returns five minutes later, Johnny has a mortified expression on his face, Salim’s grin is even wider, and there’s a whole bunch of people looking over in their direction. Omar goes to ask what happened, but the cousin who took out their plates earlier speaks first.

‘Omar,’ she says with a look that suggests she’s trying to take after her older sister, ‘why did you choose a boy who looks like a badger?’

Omar instinctively looks over at Johnny, at the two-tone hair and awkward suited stance. Slightly like a badger, he has to admit.

‘We should go,’ he says instead. Johnny smiles in relief.

They say their goodbyes, Omar making excuses about needing to check up on the laundrettes (a believable excuse because that is what he spends most of his day doing), and get into the car.

‘What happened when I was talking to uncle?’ Omar asks as he starts the ignition.

‘Don’t ask.’

‘But-’

‘Just don’t.’

Omar doesn’t push it. Instead, they marvel at how anyone could’ve known about them, before moving onto discussing Nasser’s latest money-making proposal. Johnny brings up Omar going to college, which makes Omar mock him. Once home, Johnny pulls off his suit and collapses onto their bed, the one which is a progression from a mattress on the floor. Omar strolls into the room, pulling off his tie. Johnny sighs and looks up at the ceiling.

‘Do you think I look like a badger?’

**Author's Note:**

> I imagine Salim says that everybody knows either because he's lying to piss them off, or because they've been caught making out by various people at Nasser's parties, which seems like something they might do.


End file.
